Sunless Land
by Sebe
Summary: Post-wall the boys take hunts when they can, but they've made their home base at Bobby's house. Sam has a string of good days that lull Bobby and Dean into a false sense of security.


Summary: Post-wall the boys take hunts when they can, but they've made their home base at Bobby's house. Sam has a string of good days that lull Bobby and Dean into a false sense of security.

Author's Note: The title comes from a quote by William Wordsworth that depicts the Winchesters pretty well. _"And how fast brother followed brother from sunshine to the sunless land"._ There isn't one without the other after all.

**Sunless Land**

"Hey, boy." Bobby greeted as Dean trudged up the porch steps from the Impala, grocery bags in hand. Those recyclable ones the store sold that Sam had made him buy with those big dumb doe eyes. Dean got saving the environment and all that crap, but come on! Did they have to be pink? "Have fun?"

Bobby smirked and Dean set a sensible brown paper bag with Bobby's whiskey next to him.

"Yeah, laugh it up now, old man. We ain't gonna be here forever. You'll be doing your own grocery runs again real soon. And you'll even have these neat new bags."

Bobby waved him off and Dean went inside with a smile on his face. They were both in good moods and they had every reason to be. The last two days, Sam had been getting on well. He was oriented, knew who Bobby was (because no matter what Sam never forgot Dean), and was present enough to have a beer and play poker with the other two the night before.

He'd come a long damn way from fairly regular seizures with bitten-through lips and broken calls to another younger brother, lost to them both. He hardly ever thought Dean was Lucifer now.

A minute passed before Dean came back out on the porch. His brow was slightly pinched, the beginning of a worried frown, but not alarmed, not yet.

"Where's Sammy?"

"Think he hopped in the shower a few minutes ago. Heard it running when I was around back." Dean went pale and Bobby's good mood was gone in an instant. "What?"

Dean was already tearing through the house to the upstairs bathroom, Bobby hot on his heels.

"He was in the shower when I left. Did you get the razors and scissors out of there?"

That was the M.O. now when the boys came back to base. It was something Bobby always did as a precaution, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember if he'd done it this time. The kid didn't mean to hurt himself, not really. But that didn't mean that there weren't days where they'd find him with a blade to his skin or his hand held over the open flame on Bobby's gas stove or banging his head against the wall so violently there was blood on the paint. Sam just wanted it to stop. He didn't realize what he was doing, that was all.

Bobby shook his head helplessly, watching as Dean turned the door knob and it caught, locked.

Dean didn't even bother calling out Sam's name, just kicked in the door because he knew something was horribly wrong.

"Sam?" Dean's back was blocking Bobby's view as Dean slid to his knees next to a curled form in the shower. Sam sat with his back to the spray, staring at the blood pooling in his hands only to be washed away again. Dean choked on a curse, already grabbing the hand towel on the rack nearby and tying it around one of his brother's arms.

Finally seeming to realize he wasn't alone, Sam turned to look up at Dean, his mumbled words becoming clear in a question.

"…Is it human or demon?" Dean grabbed the other hand towel Bobby had given him and tied it tight around Sam's other forearm. He wasn't trying to kill himself or he'd be dead already. The slashes and gouges weren't vertical, weren't ordered. They were frenzied, a manic looking thing.

That didn't do much to calm either of the older hunters though. Bobby reached into the closet beside him, getting a large towel and handing it to Dean who was turning off the taps. The water was pleasantly warm, but it hadn't always been. Dean only had to look at Sam's back to know that.

"God-…You've got blisters, Sammy. What the hell were you doing?" He had Sam swaddled up in towels at this point, and his words were more of a monologue since he knew Sam wasn't hearing him right now. Sam wasn't going to bleed out, just have some fairly noticeable scars to add to his collection. Dean grabbed his brother's chin roughly, teeth gritted. "The hell were you doing, huh?"

Sam blinked water off his eyelashes and slowly held his hands up to Dean like an offering. His voice was wrecked and trembling.

"Dean, is it human or demon? Is it….Dean?" The question seemed to take all the worried rage out of Dean and he slumped. He caught Sam's face in between both his own palms, leaning his forehead against his brother's.

"Human, Sammy. You're human, and that's not gonna change no matter what…so you never need to ask or…" Dean swallowed. "…or 'look' ever again, alright?"

Slowly, Sam nodded his understanding, though it was a crap shoot if he'd really remember or not. Dean backed off a little, wrapping the towel more around Sam. Hazel eyes watched from behind wet bangs.

"I'm cold." Dean just nodded, absently glancing at the blisters on Sam's back and upper arms to see if any had popped. They'd get infected easy, but at least Sam wouldn't be able to scratch at them. "I'm cold…" Sam was always cold now.

Dean managed to get Sam standing, steadying him as the blood loss went straight to his head. Bobby stepped forward to help once they were in the hallway and there was a bit more room. Sam didn't seem aware he was there at all. They steered Sam into his and Dean's room, got him sitting on the edge of his bed and Bobby backed off, letting Dean tend to Sam. He stuck around long enough to watch Dean carefully unwrap one of Sam's arms. Like they thought, nothing life-threatening, just a disjointed mess of wounds. He headed downstairs after that.

They couldn't chance Sam suddenly deciding to be freaked out by Bobby when he noticed his presence. Besides, the man knew Dean preferred to be the one to patch Sam up. It was horrible, but it was something normal in their abnormal life; something that he was used to, and it calmed Dean when Sam was all bandaged up and safe for another day.

Day to day was all they had, but really, it was all a hunter ever had. Sure, today was a bad day, but it wasn't one of the worst, not for them. And there was always a chance of a good tomorrow. Maybe someone would say that they'd come to lower their expectations on what made up a 'good' day.

The kind of momentary peace they got from a finished hunt with no casualties had become the same kind they got when Sam went a whole day completely aware of where he was and Bobby and Dean kept to the shallow end of a bottle. But as Bobby heard a soft voice begin to answer back Dean's mumbled assurances, Bobby thought maybe they'd just finally learned what really mattered to them.

And what they weren't willing to let go again.


End file.
